And We Can Breathe Again
by LilBabyCoco
Summary: AU, Mondler. We will be as one [based on personal experience] Joint fic with sweetlooove.


**Story:** Monica and Chandler, 27 and 28 consecutively, met online, and unexpectedly fell for each other. He lives in California, Monica in New York, and they have been kept apart due to Chandler's work and time-heavy job. After 4 months of waiting, they will finally get to meet.

Based on personal experience. Enjoyyy.

**Disclaimer:** We don't own either of the characters. But hand us Matteney on a plate any day. Oh yum.

****

Monica Geller stood and admired her work in admiration. A four hour cleaning spree had calmed her neuroses and brought her apartment back to its usual perfection. She flung herself down on her couch in contentment and aimed the remote at the TV, promptly flicking it on. She would pay no attention to the screen, she knew that, but it was distraction all the same. Meaningless advert after meaningless advert provided a buzz of noise that kept her content. She snuggled back into the cushion and brushed hair out of her face, propping an elbow up onto the edge of the couch. Just for a minute, her eyelids fluttered shut and she snuggled her face into the cushion. A sharp smell awoke her instantly.

"Ugh!" She cried out in disgust. A small spaghetti stain, no more than a centimetre square, released an unhealthy stench, provoking Monica to gag slightly.

"How the hell did you miss that, _idiot? **IDIOT**!_" She cursed herself out loud.

Now standing up, she kicked her bare foot against the table in anger, and instantly regretted it, a sharp shot of pain flying through her foot and up her leg. She hopped around in pain for a second and fell onto the couch, cradling her foot and moaning in pain. Her toe began to turn a nasty shade of purple, and even though the pain was only momentary, two single tears ran down Monica's face. Followed by two more. She picked a photo up from the coffee table and gazed at it for a second. She pressed it against her chest, and a steady stream of tears began to run down her face. Regardless of the stain consequences, she buried her face in the couch and sobbed quietly.

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The sun was setting in California as a lone figure emerged from the ocean, gripping tightly to a surfboard, then sun bouncing off the glistening water that lined his lightly tanned muscly body. He shook his head, sending water drops flying and letting his hair settle into its usual dry sandy mop. He made his way up the beach to the walkway, where his car was parked alone. Shaking the sand off of his feet, he slipped his sneakers onto them and climbed into his car, which he had left unlocked. That was what he loved about this time of day, no distractions, no danger, just him, the water, his board and his thoughts. Being in the water reminded him how much he disliked working, constant business trips and the same old same old. Every time he got back home, the water was always his first stop; it was his passion.

The drive home was quiet so he flicked the radio on, eventually settling on a channel. He put sole concentration into the music, absorbing every word.

_All the best DJs are saving_

_The slowest song for last_

_When the dance is through_

_Its me and you_

_Come on would it really be so bad_

_The things we think might be the same_

_But I won't fathom more_

_Its just not me to wear it on my sleeve_

_Count on me for sure_

It wasn't until he fell for her that every song he heard meant something to him.

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Four hours and ten boxes of tissues later, she had cried herself dry. It wasn't like Monica to release her weakness, but she contented herself with the fact that she was home alone and no-one would ever know. Except for the tissues. The tissues! _Damn_, she cursed to herself, and made her way over to the kitchen where she proceeded to shovel them into the bin, one big giant wad of them. She grimaced at her poor effort and continued to try and fit more in, but was interrupted by the phone ringing.

Settling the phone to her ear, she put on a strong confident voice, and greeted the caller with a friendly hello.

"Hey you."

His soft voice was music to her ears.

"Hey," she whispered back.

"How are you baby?"

"I'm okay sweetie. In a bit of pain, but I'm okay."

"Awww, what happened!" concern rang through Chandler's voice. "You didn't kick your table again did you?"

She laughed softly. He knew her so well. "Uh-huh," she admitted.

"What was wrong honey?"

The question was painful. She couldn't bring herself to speak the words crying in her head. What was wrong? _What was wrong!_ The one person I love more than anything; the one person, who I'm supposed to be with, is a million miles away from my reach. I miss you Chandler. I miss you more than words could ever tell. All these emotions, all this pain; it all bottles up inside me and I don't know how to handle it. I feel like my world is collapsing around me without you here. It makes me want to collapse into bed and not move until you're here with me. But I know I can't do that. I know I have to keep going; live day by day without you. Keep strong. Keep smiling. Reminding myself that no matter what, we love each other and we'll be together. But until then, this pain will follow me wherever I go, and leave traces of you everywhere I look. Everything I see will remind me of you. But sometimes, most of the time, it's a good thing. It's a great thing. It's amazing...its you and me. And that, that makes it all worth it. You asked what was wrong. But right now, in this moment, everything is. But it will be…we will be.

"Baby? Baby, speak to me please!" Chandler's warm tone brought her back to reality with a bump.

"I'm here honey, I'm sorry."

"What was wrong then honey?" he enquired.

She sighed, and murmured a gentle "Nothing." For several seconds, she was again silent. Chandler furrowed his face in frustration and rubbed his forehead. He was used to these silences. He didn't even both to ask why anymore, it was too painful. He hated how he could love someone so much, and see her in so much pain, and be the only remedy for her pain, but not being able to take it away. He hated that she was on the other side of the world, and the only way he could be remotely close was through a phone line or in the lonely abandoned chat room where they had first met. He clenched his fist and kicked a nearby table leg in disgust.

"I love you so much Mon!" His voice wailed down the phone. _So fucking much!_

A single tear rolled down Monica's cheek. _I love you too, Chandler. More than you'll ever know._

"I just want to sleep through these last two weeks. Just curl in a ball and not wake up until that day."

She heard him sigh on the other end of the phone and sighed with him. She didn't know how to reply anymore. She wanted to curl up too; curl up tight and pretend nobody else existed.

Neither had the energy to argue his sentence, it was pointless bringing the conversational atmosphere any lower, so, for another hour, they talked of their day, the occasional silence, saddening sigh and silent tears creeping back in every so often.

Monica's phone made the dreaded beep that signalled the end of their discussion. She could quite literally feel Chandler's head hang in disappointment, another phone call had flown by, and the majority had been listening to her tears. Tears that he hated to hear her cry, and had done for the last several months. Nevertheless, all he could do was take a deep breath and say his unwanted goodbye.

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"Mon, the woman on table 7 is complaining about her soup again!"

_Well, tell her to shove it up her own ass,_ she thought.

"Mon? She's complaining again!" Sarah, the waitress repeated.

"You just told me that!"

"Well, what should I do?"

"Bringing it back here would be a start!" she replied loudly, trying to controlling her surfacing anger. As the brunette waitress stumbled into the kitchen clumsily, she almost spilled the entire bowl's contents, and Monica wondered why she hired girls with so few brain cells.

"Here we go," Sarah said, handing her the sticky, soup-coated bowl. Monica shot her an evil look.

"_What?"_ Sarah stated.

"Are you incapable of doing such a simple task Sarah?"

"No!"

"Then why are half the contents of that bowl on the floor over there?"

"Because I tripped!" Sarah retorted.

"Because you tripped, it's **_always_** because you tripped!" Monica's vocal tone was rising alarmingly fast, causing some of the other staff to look concerned.

"But, I - "

"You know what, since you're so resourceful, why don't you do my job! **_IDIOT!_**" Monica ripped her apron off in anger and stormed out of the kitchen, every pair of eyes following her in astonishment.

She stood outside, her tired body racking, and tears falling from her aching eyes.

She couldn't take this anymore.

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"I need you!" she sobbed down the phone, cradling it in her hand and blinking her eyes hard, determined to hold back the tears that were stinging hard.

"It's only two more days baby." His voice was strong and confident.

"I need you!" she repeated loudly. "I need to be with you, I can't hold on anymore!"

"Yes, you can. We both can, and we both have. Look how far we've come. We'll make it baby, we will, I promise."

She knew he felt her pain too, she could hear it deep down in his voice; how he desperately craved to be with her just as much as she longed for him. But he had to be strong, for her. He promised he'd never let her down and he wasn't about to break that promise.

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"Yeah, just meet me in Central Park. I'm sorry baby, I wish I could kick the boss's ass, but then I'd be kicking my own." Monica felt like a demon, letting him down this way.

"It's not your fault gorgeous," Chandler replied, just managing to grab hold of his luggage from the baggage claim belt, it promptly landing on his foot. He muffled an "OW!" in his hand, so she didn't hear his error. "Work gets busy sometimes, it happens." He tried to mask his disappointment with difficulty.

"Are you sure this is okay baby? I know it's not quite what we planned." _But I'll still get to be in your arms at last._

"Its fine sweetie, don't worry. I'll see you there, 'kay?"

He missed her even more now.

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A slightly let down Chandler climbed silently into a cab.

"Where to, buddy?" the driver asked him.

Chandler replayed Monica's words in his head out loud. "She said Central Park," he replied. The driver nodded and began his journey.

"_She_, eh? This your lucky day then?"

Chandler nodded, smiling slightly. "Yeah."

"What's her name?"

"Monica," Chandler said, rubbing his thumb over the picture of her at the front of his wallet.

"Hold it up then, let's see this girl."

Chandler did as he was told, not in the least bit ashamed to show off his girlfriend. He noticed the cab drivers jaw drop slightly in awe.

"I know," Chandler agreed.

"She's gorgeous, how'd you manage to get that?"

Chandler grinned a little, he didn't disagree to the fact he had no luck in finding beautiful women. Well, maybe some, just not ones who didn't think he was gay.

"Long story," he replied and held the picture back in his lap.

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A little while later Chandler's cab ground to a halt. He looked out the window, to his destination, a mixture of nerves and excitement rushing through his body. He glanced quickly at the cab meter and handed money over to the driver, and quickly opened the door, desperate to get out. He didn't want any more delays, he **wanted** to see her.

"Hey, hey buddy, good luck!" Chandler glanced back at the driver and smiled nervously, mouthing a quick 'thank you.'

The cab pulled away and he stood on the sidewalk, gripping tightly to his bag. Not knowing quite where to head, he walked forward, assuming he was heading in the right direction. Monica hadn't been very specific in her location, just; 'in the park' was all he got from her. He walked silently and slowly, hoping for a glimpse of someone, but the park was virtually empty, as the weather didn't look all that promising.

Eventually, he began to find the searching process slightly annoying, and slowed down, looking all around him in desperation. _Where was she?_ He rubbed his head in exasperation and lent against a nearby lamppost for support.

The park was absolutely silent and empty. Chandler felt helpless, but he wasn't about to just get up and walk away. He'd waited for months to see this woman he so desperately loved; it wasn't something he was just going to throw away.

He moved away from the lamppost and looked around warily, hoping for some sign of life.

"Looking for someone?" From the silence, the voice rang loud. Chandler's head whipped around at lightening speed.

And there, a metre away from him, she stood. Tears were silently flowing down her face, which was lined with a enormous grin that Chandler mirrored. He couldn't believe it. The time was finally here, _their_ time was finally here.

In a second that lasted forever, both sprang from their spots and flung themselves together into a fierce embrace, the force almost knocking them to the ground. He felt her tears soaking his jacket, her eyes clenched tightly shut, her smile growing every second.

_Put your arms around me  
What you feel is what you are_

She felt his hands grip on tight, never wanting to let her, never wanting to break this moment. Emotions that had been suppressed for so long were finally being released. An incomprehensible sound, almost a mixture of sobbing and happy laughter came from Monica's mouth, which was muffled in his coat, stained by her tears, and gradually disappearing make-up. She was so overwhelmed with joy; every emotion flowing through her body, so overwhelmed by the fact she was finally holding him against her.

_Could you whisper in my ear  
The things you wanna feel_

Her grip on his body loosened as she leaned back for the first time and looked directly into his eyes. She choked back tears, astonished that she'd never realised just how beautiful they really were.

Chandler stared back down into Monica's bright blue eyes, completely mesmerised. Photos had done this woman no justice. She was beyond beautiful, beyond anything he had ever dreamed of. He touched her face softly, studying every inch. It was so delicate, pale as ivory, tainted slightly by streaks of make-up running down her face, and more noticeably by an astonishing smile. He felt an enormous sense of pride rush through his body, amazed that she was smiling at him, she was smiling because _he_ was there. He prayed he'd never get to see that smile break.

"I love you," he whispered, watching her smile break wider and the sun catching on her misty eyes, provoking them to glisten tantalisingly.

"I love you, too." To finally be able say it **_to his face_**, it was amazing. It felt even more real now. She felt a wave of happiness run wildly through her body.

_And what you are is beautiful  
Oh, My_

Her arms snaked around his neck, instantly pulling her body into his. A quick glance, a feeling of his warm breath of her face, and a slight silence ensued. Chandler felt Monica's fingers run lightly over the nape of his neck, sending a light shiver down his spine, and causing him to squeeze her closer into him, accidentally brushing his lips against hers for a second.

Her eyes flickered upwards, staring directly into his; into eyes that told a story. She could feel every ounce of love he felt for her in them, and to feel his lips touching hers was just a physical conformation of that.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean-"

She pressed her finger to his lips. "Shhh, its okay…"

He looked at her, slightly embarrassed at his error. He hadn't meant to be so clumsy; to ruin such a special moment.

She watched as a light shade of crimson crept into his cheeks, and melted instantly. Her thumb ran softly along his lips and across his face, resting to cup his chin in her hand. Pulling his face towards hers, she rested her forehead on his, brushing her lips to his in return, and smiling contently. She opened her mouth to say the three words but found his lips on hers again, and this time he didn't let go.

To feel his soft lips against hers; she was lost, and mesmerised. But more importantly, **_finally,_** she felt complete. She pulled him in even closer to her, breathing him in, feeling her resurfaced tears touch his face.

He didn't make any attempt to wipe them away, he just let them flow. All that mattered was this moment.

When they eventually pulled away, tears were flowing steadily down their faces, their hands gripped tight onto each other. Chandler gazed at Monica, still in disbelief that she was finally in his arms. She was amazing.

"I love you so much," he whispered. "And I'm never ever going to let you go, ever."

Monica sniffed gently. "I love you too baby. And I'm so happy we're finally together. You're just…incredible, babe. I'm so, so lucky."

"Oh, no, **_I'm_** the lucky one, and **you** are incredible. You're more than what I could've eve hoped for, you're just…I don't deserve you."

She rested her forehead against his. "But you've got me," She whispered. "Always."

Chandler smiled widely, and felt a few spots of rain on his jacket. "We should probably move," he said, indicating the looming bad weather.

Monica shook her head. "I don't wanna."

"But, uh-" His protest as cut short by her lips on his once again.

_Little pieces of the nothin' that fall  
(Oh, oh slide)_

And there they stood, locked together in intense passion, the rain soaking their clothes fast, snaking between the implausible gap between their bodies and around an unbreakable embrace. The rain soaked her raven hair, her half fringe now a thick strand of wet hair, dripping down her face and tickling her lips, causing her to stifle a slight giggle, and eventually be so irritated that it was impossible to stop laughing at the sensation. She fell into his arms, giggling like a schoolgirl, and he grinned widely at how something stupid suddenly became so funny.

"Well, I'm glad my kisses are so amusing," he mocked, and she punched him lightly on the arm.

"**_OW!_** That hurt," he lied, furrowing his eyebrows for effect.

He was so cute, she thought, and scrunched her nose at him.

He looked at her questioningly. "And _that_ would mean?"

"That would mean I love you," she stated simply, and hugged his wet form tightly.

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The two of them sat on a comfortable couch in a coffee house, early on the fourth afternoon. Slurping lightly on her coffee, she smiled contentedly at its taste, and wiped the drip of liquid spilling over the rim. He gazed at her. He adored her little quirks, how everything had to be perfect.

"All clean now, huh?" He stroked his thumb over the palm of her free hand lightly.

She stifled a laugh. "I sure hope that wasn't a slight tone of sarcasm I detected there, Mr Bing!"

He squeezed her hand lightly. "No, no, perfectly serious Miss Geller. As hard as that is for you to believe."

Monica shot a quick glance at him, slyly poking her tongue out.

"Oh that's _very_ mature," he commented.

"Natural talent really," she replied smugly, sipping her coffee and settling it down on the table.

Chandler stretched his arms open, wrapping his arms around her as she settled back into the couch. She snuggled comfortably into his embrace, wrapping her arms around his waist in return. He buried his face in her hair contentedly, and breathed in the sweet scent of her shampoo.

Monica ran her fingers over his chest lightly, pulling at his shirt maternally. He grasped hold of her pinkie and played with it gently.

"You have the loveliest fingers," he whispered, sensing a small grin spread across her face.

"All the better to poke you with, darling." Chandler laughed softly, lifting her finger to his lips and kissing it gently. He heard her sigh with satisfaction, and dropped her hand to his chest, entwining his fingers into hers.

She brought his hand to her lips, kissing hit softly in return. He gazed down at her beautiful form, and silently reminded himself that he was the luckiest man in the world.

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Lying there, in his arms, was the best feeling in the world. Nothing could dampen the happiness I felt. Never in my life had I felt so safe; so secure; so happy; so...complete. His arms around me, my head on his chest...our hearts finally beating next to each other. Nothing less than perfect. As he softly ran his fingers through my hair, a habit he already formed, I knew that this was where I belonged.

This is where I wanted to be. Where I needed to be.

I found myself lost in the feeling of his arms around me. It was in that moment that I realized, even with all the times we've said it to each other, he was my happy ending come true.

I smiled to myself. I heard him sigh and I slowly looked up to see his gorgeous eyes and perfect smile smiling down at me. I smiled back as he leaned down and kissed my head. I couldn't help but smile bigger. He was perfect. I pulled my head from his chest, leaned up and softly kissed him. Pulling away from the kiss, I saw the smile form on his lips and I knew that that smile was reserved only for me. No one else in this world would ever see that smile the way I did. He wouldn't look at anyone the way he looked at me. And I knew it was the same with me. Never could anyone make me smile the way he did. And I knew that for the rest of my life, no one ever will. That's exactly how I want it. Forever.

And then it hit me.

I had finally found my forever.

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Wheee, that's it. A nice sappy standalone.

The reason to end it there was a personal decision.

Hope you enjoyed it!


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